Hi, Alice
by Fawkes07
Summary: Neville and Hannah are having their first child, and Neville needs some parental advice. Bittersweet mother/son moment


Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I would have much better things to do than write fanfiction. Like spending my millions, for example. Cheers!

**Hi, Alice**

Neville had faced lots of frightening things in his life. Death Eaters, large, vicious snakes, Voldemort, his grandmother…

And now. Fear was twisting sickeningly in his stomach as he sat in the white waiting room, while his wife was visiting with her family. While his wife, Hannah, was in labor. With his baby. He had never felt so helpless in his life.

His grandmother would have known what to do; she would have scolded him about being a pansy and pushed him out the door to get Hannah some ice, or water, or anything else that would've helped her. But she already had all that. The only thing that was left was the excruciating _wait_.

Neville groaned and slumped forward, his head in his hands, and he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. "It'll be all right, Neville, she'll be perfectly fine," said a feminine voice, and he looked up to find Ginny next to him, little James on her hip.

He nodded rather miserably and she smiled and sat down next to him. He should really ask her if she needed anything, like coffee or a snack—he should be taking care of _all_ of them, his friends, who were crowding the waiting room now, because they wouldn't need to be here if it hadn't been for him.

Luna was reading in the corner; Rolf was at home with the twins for now. Ron and Hermione were there as well; Ron was dozing on a chair but Hermione was nowhere to be seen; she was probably helping out Hannah's healer or something, he guessed. He should probably be doing the same thing…Harry was sitting to his left, poking the air with his wand and looking deep in thought; Neville knew he was taking a break from an important case right now, and felt a surge of gratefulness toward his friend.

"Neville," began Ginny uncertainly, "you know, it'll only make you more nervous if you just sit around. Maybe you ought to go talk to Hannah now".

"Yeah," said Neville, getting up and stretching his legs, "yeah, I think I will. Thanks, Ginny", he added, "for coming."

She smiled. "Of course."

But Neville couldn't go back into Hannah's room. He stood around outside it for a while, but she was still talking to her father and grandparents, and for some reason he felt out of place among them, even though they were family. More than anything, he wanted his own family there now…

And then a thought struck him. He walked quickly out of the neonatal section of St. Mungo's, passing the room full of gurgling babies without a second glance. He didn't stop until he was at the fourth floor, and then he strode quickly past the sign reading _Spell Damage_ and swept into the ward, heading straight for the flowery curtains that divided the corner from the rest of the room.

_Please remember me this time. I need to talk to you._

He needn't have worried though; the moment he appeared behind the curtains, the little woman lying in the bed to the right lifted her head up and beamed at him. "Mum."

She smiled even wider, if it was possible, and began rummaging through the drawer at the bedside table, finally bringing out a bubble gum wrapper. _Another one._ Neville smiled at her and accepted it with a quiet, "Thanks", and looked toward the other bed.

A shriveled looking man lay asleep in it, and when Alice saw his gaze shift, her mouth sagged into an expression of grief. Neville felt his heart break a little: his father's condition had continued to worsen after his Gran had died.

"He'll get better," he whispered to her without much confidence. She smiled sadly up at him.

"Mum. I'm here because…d'you remember Hannah? She's come to see you before."

Alice's brow furrowed in confusion, but Neville had expected it; she had never recognized his wife, even though he'd introduced her to them both several times. Still, he sighed forlornly, and his disappointment was evident even to her, because her eyes began to tear and an expression of frustration took over her face, as if she were demanding to herself why she couldn't remember who her son was talking about.

"It's okay, Mum. But she's my wife. And today…today she's having a baby. Here, in St. Mungo's."

This she understood, and a wave of relief washed over Neville when the tears spilled out over her withered cheeks and she sat up and held her arms out to him, and on her face was an expression of such happiness that he'd only seen it once before, when he'd told her that he was planning to propose to Hannah.

She held him close, for a long time, and hummed in his ear, and for a while Neville felt like everything was normal; she was his mother, and she was holding her son like mothers were always supposed to.

When she let him go, he knelt by her bed and blurted out what he'd really wanted to say in the first place. "Mum, I'm terrified."

Now she grinned at him—not a motherly smile, but a laughing, mischievous grin. He couldn't help but grin tentatively back, and for a moment he could see the type of woman she had been, bubbly and joking. She stroked his hair comfortingly, though, and even though Neville was putting the words in her mouth, he could imagine her saying how proud she was of him, and that he had nothing to be scared about.

Suddenly she pressed a kiss to his forehead and motioned for him to get up, and he did so, confused. Her brow furrowed impatiently and she pointed to the gap in the curtains through which he had entered. _What, do you want me to leave?_

She nodded at him as if she knew what he had been thinking, and motioned to the gap again before making a cradle with her arms, holding them to her chest. _Baby_.

_The baby._

"Okay, Mum, I'm going. I'll come back when it's over and tell you all about it, all right?"

She nodded again and beamed at him, and when Neville walked out, he wasn't nearly as afraid as he had been before, even though his fist was clenched around the bubble gum wrapper in his pocket.

"Where were you?"

Hannah was looking up at him, her face a mix of pain and anxiety. "They've been looking for you."

"I'm sorry", said Neville as sincerely as he could muster, "I went visiting".

And Hannah understood—she smiled at him. "Are you all right?"

He grinned at her. "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"

_Three hours later…_

Neville's face was covered in a sheen of sweat as he watched Hannah hold their daughter for the first time. She smiled adoringly at her, and looked so happy that Neville felt a bubble of it rise up inside of him. He was completely exhausted, but it was worth this moment. "Little Alice", she murmured to the wide eyed infant.

She looked up at him then, and asked, "Do you want her for a bit? I'm so tired, I think I'm going to collapse any second."

"Sure", he said, leaning over to kiss his wife.

When they pulled apart and Neville took baby Alice up in his arms, he heard an odd crinkling sound coming from her hand. He opened up her clenched fist to find the bubble gum wrapper from his pocket, and he smiled down at his daughter.

"Hi, Alice."


End file.
